Abused again.

I thought she would have stood by me
through the thick and thin
the cause and cave she invited me in
dark and shiver, alone
a stone, thrown in a puddle
with ripples, stripped, bare
I craved another
heart beat, pulses
imp
minute in a minute
of time driven and drawn
on a sketch padded feet
able to climb the trunk driven tree.
Quiver, in a hole protecting
abjecting an absailing
down side of the house
I showed you a mouse and yet
you were not that much impressed.
I digressed, did not progress
confused
I believe my mind has been abused
again.

Foreign land impossible.

The creation of the melting pot
a nineteen twenty southern home
my grandmama baking a cake
for the Lords sake
I needed to exit stage right, right?
Called up to fight
Over to a European war of what and because
And I is black not white this cause
cigar smoking in a trench jazz room
not yet invented, instigate, faculty
see a million times, the Hun of time
I cried his name out,
I teared his throat, and shout
vocal
Local, other brothers
scattering in a french trench
gramophone on a scratch
like the one on my cheek
record
drive through the ford
and cross, arms raised
above the head
the rifle, this black cheek
buried
shot.
. . . . .
shot.
and buried
in a white sand on foreign land
unmarked
impossible.

Sweet corn

I met him in a cornfield
he did not announce or even insinuate
his name or history
yet I knew him already
his smile was a warmth on a bitter banjo morning
his hair was flailing in an invisible wind
the tears were sopping his cheeks
blankets moist in a eye brow scorning
questions you
and I dared to run
amongst the cob and lob the answer
in His face, golden,
disgrace the lord
in my scare crow mind
flight
beyond my sight
the tears in the plowed
corn.

The little Gothic girl

Dressed in the dark
purposely, on a back of rebellions horse
careering through our walls of life
mascara running faster than we can
down the eyelids shut and she cried
yet we stood by her and decisions
made in a plaster scene background
of glitter and dresses serene
in catalogues of teenage life
tattoo do you
hair of a ravens wing
flying pale against the sun that
continually sets in a dark place
Oh little Gothic girl
blankets to cover the face
skulls and a crossed bone
depressed yet i
the hairy monster of the mountings
pictured on a wall, nailed, straight
look back, not down on you
a photograph
oh little Gothic girl
do be true.

Medic!

Drown the thoughts in a glass of insomnia
kicking
screaming amongst a perspex
plastic
birds circling in degrees
obtrusive language only Grandma would appreciate
be cause of the second world war
the falling on beaches and peaches rouged
on cheeks in irrespective
dis respective
alto ego played on a double
bass
caught on a line hung in a river
drown to the sound of a tank
shivered its turrets
syndrome of a mind i caught at ninety ninety years old
fidgeting in an armchair
despair he did
since the gut was sixteen and lied
volunteered
feared the god who told him to do this
be blissed in a apprehensive
amongst the trench and tackle
double back to save my one legged friend
send in a medic
a dog collar wearer
Dr point if my view fits
sits
anaesthetic
Medic
Medic

Aztecnology

aztechnology
ancient stones gathered
on shoulders of giants
wind pipes dressed in llamas tricolor skin
rhythm beating of the still heart
trom bones
vulture coiffure rotting in a dessert
ice cream melting
smelting
the irons of life together
pyramids bleeding triangular
singular reason
scat mans boogie
on ancient landing
pad
insomniac feeding on vestibules
globules gathering on a leaf
sad
perhaps and collapse
relive and relapse the past
faces of the visitor in the sand
pyramid
aztechnology
alien being on earth we know
we draw on the inside of the wall
feeding the child that lives in the inside
abide by the rules they dictate
suffocate to satisfy
there is a new law to abide by bye.
released
escsped.

I west coast of Africa

An African post
stamped, on my heart, like
Oroonoko, dragged, against the sand and
desert slavery held in a hand
a prince. a giant
forced and raped with muscles
flexed
a princess Imoinda
complex
allow the man to grow, show
that the united states west Indians flow
against the rivers of the
tom tom drum, and bow
and arrow against
the confederate
infiltrate
remember the African King
fight against the native Siberians
Russian against the bearing
straight
Inuit
and then the white.
from the east of us, Spanish, English
against the all of the us
U s
a
i say
feeling poorer against
the east men, with pale faces
races against the east of
Atlantic and
where we came from, on slave ships
slipped and died on decks
to compete with Eastern Asians
who travelled within
one long longitude
we evolved from the same place
middle Africa
we sought each other out
for that is the sin
it is not all that far
this place
the being
West
Africa.

In the town of New Orleans

The eruption of a volcanic
satanic
operatic
pause.
a Faustian deal made
three devils
kidneys, displayed
heat, on a babies sheet
talcum powder
cheeks.
We cried on the new Orleans street
death marched in
with the sin and cause
with the trombone because
we never wanted horns to play better
the leading lady dressed in black and lace
without a trace of mourning
dawn
double bass
Im dead and glad i am in
the glass case coffin, laughin
shiftin amongst the spiritual cacophony
after the last plane of time symphony
oh when the saints go marching in
i pass onto the after life
and see my family kicking high heels behind me
dressed in noir and night times stars
saxophone, rang, i answered
hello, glad you are there
a thousand light year stare
yet the crab claws are gonna grab me
and deliver
shiver moma
look over me, im down stairs
let it loose
hullaballo
let it loose
and i will catch you on the flip side of life
i lived as an infant
i grew up in my teens
i existed amongst the gutters
in the town of New Orleans.

Insipid mama

emotional void
bleeding tar pits of sweat
no scent to cover the cultural seeping
angry at the are of the you are
pirates of sailed regression
and I say this Michael
I don't a;;ow myself to be happy or sad
good nor bad
i tread on steady waters
non appreciation of genius
the world is not constructed of scaffolds of colours
its an architecture of non desript sketches
cathedrals of couture don't exist to me
play guitars and conscript words
for a war of imagination
I will not appreciate, can not gravitate
I hate to tell you this son
but i'm the black and white mum.

Red inside us all.

my blood on ebony skin
ivory has done this to me again
elephant tusks and complains
severed the beast inside of me
cowed and undiscovered
amid African sand unloved.
Held, meld on to the deck
wake I love, children of my god
gone. tied to a new religion
fellow men entangled in bangles of steel
questioning the reasoning of the vanilla essence
waves of depression, swamp the ship
can a be in
islands
i do not know, alone
plantations
work for nothing
currency of life
coins of sweat
up rise like Oroonoko
King of my homeland, against the fresh mane lion
trying to progress with no hope
i took an axe to the white mans head
he bled
dead
blood
like I do
fool, he is just the same as me
as I see
on the floor
as the other white men, beat
me, killed
me
red
inside
us all.

Lost Poem

I lost a poem I was really proud of
It was a bout of slavery, and I was a black man
In it, because in words I can
Be anyone, but it disappeared from view
fickle words diluted into digression
over hanging like a stalactites repression
I lost a poem
in the realm of technology
And this one does not make up for it.

Thank you Mam.

twenties quick step
moonshine a flowing in underground
bars me, and a smile
pin striped in glory
tell me a story of repression
aggression and do la do la do la do la
on a sidewalk of treats and treason
and trickles on the apple citation line
pulled over, stop on a nova star
by far, we rode on the keys and progressed
I digress, she taught me the words
to the cha cha change of my inside
in the nineteen twenties
foxtrot, I'm becoming cliched
flick my heels and see
dance on sidewalks of apprehension
I try to be clever, but would rather
be someone else
so I will, hum it baby
this maybe my first love song
casually i will go, jumping in puddles
what rhymes with puddles?
fuddles
duddles
i will muddle
through this
Bing bang
alekazam
thank you mam.

Triple Billed

sun sets, triple billled
duck and behold the morning
swan dive in the apparition
of orange haze
destitute under a bridge
beg to please
anything goes, suck you off
feed the child
umbilical cord ripped
heroine
jabbed in the vein
of hope
no blood to bleed
constitute the amendment
fifth, I do not talk
pillaged and progression
sins ten fold suggestion
prostitute of preemptive presumption
it it your assumption that lead me to a bed
this child needs to be fed
Mistress of a mattress
to follow blindly, extraordinary
high and hugging
sly and drugging
the world
of mine
digging on the coal face
babies cold face
resuscitate, destination filled
orange sunset
triple billed.